[ eddie doesn't set the beer down but he's not going to drink from it. why he's self-conscious about looking weird not drinking is at the top of him mind? who knows when there are so many things higher on the list.

he's still feeling like he might lose whatever is in his stomach, skin paler than it was before which leaves him looking more like death turned over than particularly sick. ] Sorry, wrong pipe. [ he says as if he can bullshit himself but well, here's to fucking hoping for miracles.

he coughs again, leans forward to reach out for the joint. ] Thanks.

[ how does one act around an alternate version of oneself? eddie sits back, takes a hit from the joint and luckily that doesn't taste like ash in his mouth. small blessings do exist out there somewhere. he holds it, takes a moment and then exhales. there's no immediate blowback, which has him relaxing with a soft 'Oh thank fuck' under his breath.

Which leaves the issue at hand. ] Last thing? [ if one's considering home, well, that's still vivid. ] Shoving Honeycombs into my mouth as Henderson, Harrington, Robin and Max try to convince me that finding Vecna and killing him before anyone finds me is the easy option. [ totally easy except for the no where to start, no girl with super powers thing.

eddie had kept shoveling the food into his mouth, frantically trying to figure out when someone would get to the punchline of the very sick joke as if it wasn't the new reality. the punchline hasn't come yet. he figures with the way this other version of himself looks, maybe it's because he's the punchline of all this. maybe.

he offers the joint back because if this doesn't get less weird, well, less sobriety is better. ]